the large one, which returned with them to Plymouth. No sooner, however, were they set on shore than one of them made off, and was never afterwards heard of. This suspicious circumstance would naturally induce the idea that the man had himself originated the conflagration; but the fact of its being a lighthouse with no means of retreat for the inmates, and every reason to believe that they must perish with the building, is much opposed to this idea. In giving an account of this circumstance, Smeaton says, ‘I would rather impute his sudden flight to that kind of panic which sometimes, on important occasions, seizes weak minds; making them act without reason, and in so doing commit actions whose tendency is the very reverse of what they desire.’ Of the other two light-keepers, one, named Henry Hall, had received injuries of a most serious nature; and his case is not a little extraordinary. At the time of the fire, there was, according to the usual custom, a tub of water standing in the lantern of the lighthouse; and when this man perceived the flames, he immediately exerted himself to the utmost in throwing buckets of water up into the roof of the cupola. As he was doing this, and looking upwards to see the effect of his endeavours, a quantity of lead, dissolved by the heat of the flames, suddenly rushed from the roof, and fell upon his head, face, and shoulders, burning him in a severe manner. At this moment his mouth happened to be open, and he persisted in declaring that some lead had gone down his throat, and was the cause of violent internal pain. When removed to his cottage at Stonehouse, he invariably told Dr. Spry, the medical man who attended him, and who constantly administered the proper remedies for the burns and injuries he had received, that if he would do anything effectual to his recovery, he must relieve his stomach of the lead, which he was sure it contained. This story appeared quite incredible to Dr. Spry, who did not believe that any human being could exist after receiving melted lead into the stomach; much less that he should afterwards be able to bear towing through the sea from the rock; and also the fatigue and inconvenience from the length of time employed in getting him ashore, before any remedies could be applied. The man went on without much change for the better or for the worse. He took medicines, and swallowed many things both liquid and solid, until the tenth or eleventh day, when he suddenly grew worse, and on the twelfth day, being seized with cold sweats and spasms, he soon afterwards expired. On a subsequent examination of the stomach, Dr. Spry found, to his astonishment, a solid piece of lead of a flat oval form, which weighed seven ounces and five drachms. Smeaton saw this piece of lead, and observed that part of the coat of the stomach had firmly adhered to the convex side of it. Dr. Spry transmitted an account of this very singular case to the Royal Society: but it was not received with